


Paradise by the Dashboard Light

by tittysatan



Series: Unholy Trinity [2]
Category: Devilman
Genre: Car Sex, Drug Use, M/M, miki knows what's up, of course, ryo is a meat loaf fan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:44:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tittysatan/pseuds/tittysatan
Summary: Ryo drags Akira out to an abandoned lot for driving lessons. Things escalate.





	Paradise by the Dashboard Light

**Author's Note:**

> I'd recommend listening to Meat Loaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" if you're not familiar with it, since this references it both literally and thematically.

Ryo pulled up in front of the Makimura house in a sleek black car that could not have been more obviously stolen and leaned on the horn. The blaring noise echoed in the afternoon air for close to a minute before an upstairs window flew open and Miki slammed her hands on the sill.

“Fucking hell Asuka, would it _kill_ you to be less of a public nuisance?” she yelled, flinging a shoe out to bounce harmlessly off the roof of the car.

“Is Akira there?” Ryo replied, unperturbed.

“He’s in the bathroom, shithead! Knock on the door like a normal goddamn human being!”

“I’m here, I’m here, sorry Miki…” Akira said sheepishly, jogging up behind her. “I’ll be down in a sec, Ryo!” he called out the window before heading for the door.

“Akira, you know I love you, but you need to teach your boyfriend some manners,” Miki said, following him down the stairs with arms crossed.

It was astonishing how flustered Akira could still get, demon body or no. “He’s not my boyfriend! Don’t even joke about that…”

“Yeah, well, you’d better tell him that,” Miki sighed as he slipped his shoes on.

“See you later, Miki!” he said forcefully, rushing out the door before she had a chance to continue.

“…yeah, see ya,” she said, voice only slightly mocking as she shut the door behind him.

Akira went through the gate and vaulted easily over the hood of Ryo’s car, slipping into the passenger’s seat beside him.

“…you’re blushing,” Ryo noted, just as Akira was about to tell him not to blare the horn next time.

“I am not!” He turned away sulkily, blushing even more.

Ryo stubbed his joint in the ashtray and peeled out into the street. “So, you wanna learn to drive?”

“Huh?”

“What, are you gonna say you don’t need to cause you can fly? What if you need to move someone, or something? Don’t tell me you’ll carry it.”

“No, I just… Never really thought about it before,” Akira replied, leaning back in the seat and watching Ryo as he drove, eyes bright behind his sunglasses, hair whipping in the breeze from the open window, drifting effortlessly around corners as other drivers yelled curses at him. He started when Ryo turned to catch his eye.

“It’s not that tough, you’ll get the hang of it in no time,” Ryo said, smirking. “Teaching you to hotwire might take a bit longer, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“…I am _not_ going to steal cars.”

“How else are you going to get one, then?” Ryo laughed. “It’s the end of the world, no one’s gonna care that their Maserati is gone. At least not for long.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what this is,” Akira sighed. “What happened to the Porsche?”

“Wrapped around a telephone pole up in the mountains.”

“I should’ve guessed. You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days, and you’re not even the one fighting demons.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Ryo grinned, taking a hand off the wheel to stroke Akira’s arm. “I’ve got the luck of the devil.”

A shiver ran up Akira’s spine, and he tried to tell himself it was just due to the bad taste of his comment.

Ryo was dangerous, as much or more as any demon he’d ever killed, and that was the only reason Akira’s pulse pounded in his ears when he was near. A grinning doomsayer with guns and knives, booze and drugs, who hotwired cars and didn’t care about collateral damage. Dangerous. Intense. Frightening. Of course he made his heart race.

 _You’re the only one I can trust_ , he had said on the night everything changed, and there were tears in his eyes, and he looked so helpless. _Akira, please._

Akira had never put a name to what those words made him feel. As long as he didn’t name it, he could pretend it didn’t matter.

_What a stupid thing to worry about, when everything’s gone to shit this much._

“Sure. Right. Whatever,” he said, trying his hardest to play it cool. “If you wanna teach me to drive, I’ll learn.”

“Great!” Ryo flashed him a toothy grin. “There’s this abandoned parking lot out on the edge of town, perfect for practice.”

They drove in silence, Akira trying not to steal glances at Ryo, trying not to notice that every time he did, their eyes met. Trying to ignore the tension in the air.

“Something you wanna say to me?” the blonde asked, eyes teasing behind his sunglasses. The sun gleamed in his hair like a halo. Akira couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Yeah, uh, what’s this song?” Akira asked, grasping desperately for anything he could use as a cover. It was one of Ryo’s tapes, the American stuff he bought from the import music shop, alternating between bouncy cheer and a slow, lilting chorus. English, of course.

“It’s called Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” Ryo replied. “It’s off the new Meat Loaf album. Came in the day before yesterday.”

“Oh, their lyrics are interesting… Can you translate?”

Usually Ryo was more than happy to interpret his music, but this time he started, fidgeted with his sunglasses, demurred. “…I haven’t listened to it enough to have a good read.”

“If you say so…” Akira said, shrugging. Based on Ryo’s ease the few times Akira had heard him speak English, he was pretty sure he could at least give him a vague idea, but there wasn’t much point in pushing the issue.

“We’re here,” Ryo said, pulling into the dingy, empty lot. There were broken bottles and empty cans littering the place, rusting and twisted lampposts dotting the asphalt. It looked like a real safety hazard. “Alright, let’s switch seats.”

“…are you sure this is a good idea?” Akira asked, laughing nervously. “I mean, what if I wreck the car? I don’t have a clue what I’m doing…”

“If you wreck the car, I’ll just steal a new one,” Ryo shrugged. “And I keep telling you, it’s not that hard. You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

“Yeah, but, it’s a manual, and…”

“Oh? You’re afraid to drive stick?” Ryo smirked, running his fingers up and down the shifter, thumb brushing over the top, never taking his eyes off Akira. “It’s only the first time that’s scary. If you can handle this, you can handle anything.”

Akira gulped.

He was still too flustered to think straight when Ryo got out of the car and walked around to open his door. “C’mon.”

Akira’s foot caught as he climbed out of the car, and he only managed to avoid sprawling on his face when Ryo grabbed his arm and hauled him up with a laugh. He held Akira by the shoulders with that easy strength of his, smiling, light caught in his pale lashes, their faces close enough to lean forward and…

And then Ryo moved him out of the way, took his seat, and patted the driver’s seat expectantly.

With a sigh, Akira sat down next to him. “…your legs are really long,” he muttered, stretching out to reach the pedals. “We’re the same height, how are your legs so much longer than mine?”

“There’s a lever under the front to adjust it,” Ryo said, draping his body across Akira’s leg to press it, move him forward. He stayed there, looking up from between Akira’s thighs, arm still on the lever. “That better?”

Ryo was right next to his crotch. He could almost feel his breath. Akira thought he felt his soul leaving his body, but at least he was close enough to the wheel now. “Uh, yeah, fine,” he said, pushing Ryo back upright perhaps too forcefully, desperately hoping he hadn’t…noticed anything.

Ryo gave him a look that could have meant anything, but definitely meant _something_. “Now then, left is the clutch, middle’s the break, right’s the gas,” Ryo explained, eyes a physical weight as they raked over Akira’s body. “The clutch is the tough part; you need to have it engaged when you’re shifting gears. Foot on the clutch, hand on the shifter.”

Akira did as he was told, only to feel a shiver run up his spine as Ryo’s cool, soft hand layered on top of his. Their fingers were interlaced. Akira thought he might die.

“Press on the gas now, just a little.” Ryo murmured, hand tightening over his, sending a hot flush through Akira’s body. “Gentle now, take it slow.” The car growled to life under him and how was he supposed to concentrate, when Ryo was talking to him in that voice? “A little harder, now. Yeah, just like that.” This was unreal, this was a dream, Ryo was so close… “Now ease off on the clutch, slowly.”

The car jumped forward and Akira snapped back to reality, flailing against the wheel as Ryo laughed. “Uhh, what do I do, what I do I do!?”

“You’re doing fine! Foot off the clutch and speed up a bit, now.” His hand on Akira’s shoulder, his face so close. “You don’t wanna drive in first for long, it’s not good for the car.”

Hesitantly, eyes on the fence at the edge of the lot and the lampposts to the side, Akira eased on the gas, trying to think of anything but the warmth of Ryo’s body against his.

“Alright, this should be good. Off the gas, on the clutch, we’re shifting.” And Ryo’s hand tightened on his, pulling down on the shifter, sending a shiver up Akira’s spine. He was so close, this was so strangely intimate… “Back on the gas now, c’mon!” Ryo urged, leaning even closer, his golden hair tickling Akira’s face. “Good, good. There we go, we’re in second. Nice job, Akira!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Akira mumbled, taking his hand off the shifter to turn the wheel, driving circles around the lot, still feeling where that hand had touched his. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember a thing from this lesson the next day. He’d never been in such a daze.

“Harder now, faster,” Ryo breathed, and he had to be doing this on purpose, didn’t he? Either way, it was working. Akira could barely think. “Just like that.”

A few hours later the sun had nearly set and Akira had gotten a grasp of the basics. He also couldn’t think of anything but the sound of Ryo’s voice and the presence of Ryo’s body next to him. Hands layering his, stroking his shoulders, the sultry, smoky sound of his words hanging in the air. His breath smelled like drugs and whiskey. It was intoxicating.

“How about we call it a night?” Ryo said, lounging in the seat next to him, trenchcoat not enough to hide the lines of his body. “It’s getting late.”

 “Yeah… Yeah, let’s do that.” He parked the car, leaving it on just enough for the dashboard lights to glow faintly.

Ryo relit his half-smoked joint, taking a deep drag, before offering it to Akira with a silent smile.

 _The car’s going to reek if you keep smoking in here_ , he thought senselessly as he accepted it, putting his lips where Ryo’s had been. It burned his demon lungs, just a little, not enough to make him cough.

The dying sunset haloed Ryo’s hair, burning it copper around the edges with its infernal radiance. It seemed he was always surrounded by light. An angel in Hell.

“Hey, Ryo…” he murmured as the sky faded into night, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say, not knowing if he could say it at all.

Ryo took another drag, stubbed his joint, leaned in so they were nearly touching. “That song before, Paradise by the Dashboard Light… You asked what it was about.”

“…yeah..?”

He smirked, eyes gleaming in the dark, as he ran a hand up Akira’s thigh. “This.”

Slowly Akira leaned in, burying his face in Ryo’s neck, hand playing over his chest, slipping under his shirt to feel the skin beneath. “Was this your plan the whole time?” he murmured before kissing him. He was soft and hard all at once under Akira’s touch, silk and marble, yielding just enough to make him want more.

“Something like that,” Ryo replied, fingers tracing over Akira’s crotch and dragging a gasp from his lips. He toyed with him, drawing circles, rubbing just hard enough to tease and no more. “Looks like all that flirting paid off, didn’t it?”

“…shut up,” Akira muttered as Ryo undid his fly, and then that cool soft hand was wrapped around him. “Oh, fuck…”

It would be a lie to say he’d never thought about it, as much as he tried not to. It would definitely be a lie to say he’d never woken to sticky sheets and images that made him blush.

It was even better than he could have imagined.

“It’s only the first time that’s scary,” Ryo teased, touching him the same way he’d touched the shifter, slowly up and down, licking his lips. His grip was so light, just barely brushing friction, and Ryo laughed as Akira’s hips bucked reflexively, yearning for more. “How about you show me what you’ve learned?”

Clumsily, distracted by the feel of Ryo’s smooth delicate fingers on him, Akira freed the other boy’s cock from his pants. Ryo let out a breathy gasp as Akira dragged his fingers over it, hair falling over his flushed face, leaning heavily into the crook of Akira’s neck, kissing and biting at the flesh. “Ahh, Akira…” he sighed, name a confession on his lips, more dizzying than his touch in its own way.

They leaned awkwardly across the center console, a gap between their bodies as they kissed, hands reaching out to touch skin, push aside clothes, caress hair.

“Just like that,” Ryo breathed, back arching sensually, voice husky and hypnotizing, hand playing over Akira’s chest as he stroked him. “That’s the way…”

Akira came first, shuddering and biting his lip hard to keep from crying out. Ryo followed a moment later, burying his face in Akira’s neck with a stifled moan. For a moment they stayed that way, leaned against each other, catching their breath, before breaking apart and wiping themselves clean.

When Akira looked over Ryo was watching him, face flushed and hair a mess, blue bedroomy eyes reflecting the dashboard lights. Akira gave him his most devilish smile, leaning over to recline Ryo's seat all the way back.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Ryo asked, amused, as Akira moved to crouch over him, legs and arms pinning him to the seat.

“Let’s fuck,” Akira said, demon eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

The blonde blinked. “…what?”

“You heard me, let’s fuck. Here. Now.” Akira reached down to toy with his hair, trace a thumb over his lips. “I want it.”

Ryo didn’t flinch away from his hand, but he didn’t lean into it, either. “What are you talking about?” he asked, almost smiling, something strange and bitter in his eyes. “We can’t just…it’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is,” Akira said, lowering his hips to grind against him. From the low moan Ryo gave it was clear his body wanted it too, but he turned away, expression hard. “What, do you not want to bottom? You can top, then. I don’t care.”

“…that…that’s not it,” Ryo muttered, blushing. “Jerking each other off’s one thing, but if we’re gonna fuck, then… We can’t just pretend it doesn’t mean anything.”

Like a knife through Akira’s chest.

“Sure, it’s fun to mess around, play horny teens, like it’s all just a joke, but… If we do this, we can’t go back.” It was so rare to see Ryo look vulnerable. “We can’t keep pretending we’re just friends.”

“You’re the one who came onto me, you can’t just…” Akira wished he wasn’t on top of Ryo like this, wished there was a graceful way to extract himself from this position. “…what does that even mean? What do you want from me?”

His eyes, sharp and sad and strange. “You know what I want you to say.”

And he did know. It was so obvious he couldn’t even pretend he didn’t.

Awkwardly, unable to meet Ryo’s eyes, he climbed back into the driver’s seat. “…you’re right. I… We can’t do this.”

“Switch seats. I’ll drive you home.”

The drive was silent, unable to look at each other, unable to speak, the knowledge that by tomorrow everything would be back to normal hanging heavy over them. Neither of them asked about putting the music back on. It would have been a bad joke.

**Author's Note:**

> So. Meat Loaf fic.
> 
> The idea for this came when a friend made a Ryo-themed playlist that included the song in question, which I thought was the funniest fucking thing because I think of Meat Loaf as peak dad rock. We started joking about car sex and here we are.
> 
> Before you leave a comment saying that Devilman is from 1972 and Bat Out of Hell didn't come out until 1977, making it impossible for them to listen to it - I know.


End file.
